


Twenty-six days, Four hours, Thirteen minutes

by Everest_W



Series: Hetalia Fanfictions (All da ships) [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Human, Arthur is just trying his best, Character Death, Established Relationship, Francis is drinking his sorrows away, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Ivan's an emotional mess, Kidnapping, M/M, Overprotective Matthew, Please Don't Kill Me, Poor Alfred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-04 00:01:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17887655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everest_W/pseuds/Everest_W
Summary: Twenty-six days, four hours, and thirteen minutes since Alfred saved Ivan’s life.





	Twenty-six days, Four hours, Thirteen minutes

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was written at 2 am and I was really tired so this is probably really bad. I might rewrite it, probably not though.

Twenty-six days, four hours, and thirteen minutes since Alfred gave himself up to his kidnappers. 

Twenty-six days, four hours, and thirteen minutes since Alfred saved Ivan’s life. 

Twenty-six days, three hours, and sixteen minutes since Alfred jumped off the grid. Missing. 

Twenty-five days, thirteen hours, and six minutes since Ivan laid awake, thinking his lover was gone for good.

Twenty days, four hours and forty-nine minutes since he started searching. 

One day, zero hours, and five minutes since he found the bunker the captors were in.

Five minutes since he was faced with the worst decision of his lifetime. 

\-----------------Twenty-six days, four hours, and eleven minutes ago-------------------

“To us.”

“To us.”

The American tipped back in his chair, taking a sip of champagne and smiling.

“Seems this started yesterday, huh? Still can’t believe it’s been five whole years.”

“Да,” the Russian looked up from his drink before continuing “It doesn’t feel like five years at all. Everything moved so fast. Like the blink of an eye, two separate heartbeats beating as one for the first time in so many years.”

“I’m gonna cut you off there because heroes don’t blush and goddamnit Ivan I’m a tomato.”

The Russian gave a slight smile, turning back to his drink a burying his face into his scarf. The small room fell into a comfortable silence.

The sweet moment was shattered by a piece of glass caving in upon itself under the weight of several humans.

Before either of the duo could react a gun was put to the Russian’s head.

“Alfred Freedom Jones,” The person who seemed to be the head of the operation spoke, “I’d suggest you come with us, unless you want your boyfriend over there getting a bullet through his pretty little skull.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Is that really a question you’re asking right now? You’re the wealthiest businessman in all of New York, your ransom money could go into the millions.” The man smirked

“Here’s the issue with that plan of yours, if I go missing. All of my accounts lock. Money, Stocks, everything.”

The man let out a laugh “I guess we’ll just have to see about that then, won't we?” With a nod of his head, Alfred was shot in the leg and dragged out of the room.

\-------------Twenty-five days, fourteen hours, and ten minutes ago-------------------

“Look, we’re doing everything we can. Don’t you trust me, Ivan? I practically raised the kid.”

But still, Ivan stood right in front of the desk of officer Arthur Kirkland. Kirkland had ‘practically raised’ Alfred, and he was worried as well. A lot of people were. Matthew, Alfred’s younger brother, was going out of his mind funding search parties and pushing their other father-figure, Francis, to get off his lazy ass and do more to help find his older brother.

“Fine. I guess I’ll have to figure something out myself. Thank you for your time, Arthur.”

\----------------------------five minutes ago---------------

Ivan had found Alfred. Alive, but just barely.

His dress shirt was torn open, revealing a blood-matted chest, caused by cuts placed precisely to cause immense pain but not death. The American had over twenty visible broken bones and his wrist was going in a direction it should not be able to go in. The tie he was wearing over Twenty days ago was split in half and tied around the back of his head, haphazardly stuffed into his mouth as a gag, and tied tightly around his eyes. The dress pants that Alfred was wearing were discarded, revealing those stupid-print American flag boxers that he always wore. His legs were in a similar condition to his torso. 

Alfred emitted a loud whimper as Ivan kneeled down to take the gag out of the American man’s mouth. Tossing his head around as much as he could without causing too much pain to himself he tried to resist the touches from the Russian’s cold hands. 

After eventually succeeding in taking the gag out from between chapped lips, the first words Ivan heard were the ones he didn’t want to hear.

“Please. Just kill me. I can’t take this anymore.”

“Fredka…”

“Ivan?”

“Да.”

“They’re gonna come back. Please. Just kill me, I don’t want to feel anymore pain, Vanya.”

Ivan pulled the blindfold off, revealing bloodshot baby blue eyes, that were pleading for death as much as the rest of him. Ivan sent an ‘I’m sorry’ look towards those tired blue eyes as he peeled the American’s back off the metal chair, revealing more blood and countless whip marks.

“What’d they do to you, Alfred?” The question was met only with a groan in response.

\---------------Time Skip-----------

Ivan was sitting in the hospital waiting room, waiting for Alfred to get out of surgery. Pacing. Back and forth. It’s midnight. Still pacing. One AM. Pacing. Two AM. A doctor comes out of a room and purple eyes dart towards the room. He stops pacing.

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to say.”

The Russian doesn’t hear the rest of what the doctor says, he feels like he’s falling and his whole world is collapsing underneath him.


End file.
